


Binary Star

by nyoka



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Established Relationship, M/M, Not Season 8 compliant, POV Keith (Voltron), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post Season 7, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 08:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17301383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyoka/pseuds/nyoka
Summary: Sometimes Keith thinks about the way he and Shiro operate together, how they orbit each other in the dark, how they protect each other. All the different ways they collide.





	Binary Star

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before S8 premiered, but life happened and the season dropped, and I’m just now recovering enough to post it. So this is not S8 compliant at all, and diverges from the end of S7 -- or rather it just exists in all the correct timelines where Sheith is canon endgame, as they were meant to be ;)

*

 

Fifteen planets in as many days, and the sight of post-war destruction has at least become less and less of a spectacle. Keith sighs, watches silently as the crowd of onlookers makes way for the inter-planetary volunteer force of humanitarian workers delivering donations of food and other needed items to the people of Lumac, a small planet located in a spiral galaxy millions of light years away from Earth. The other Paladins are spread out across the universe on similar humanitarian and intergalactic missions, visiting worlds slowly recovering from the Galra Empire’s stranglehold on their resources. 

Freedom is coming slow, and the long months spent battling against the remnants of Sendak’s army, followed by a lot of outreach and intergalactic political finessing, have kept the Paladins’ days busy. It has also unfortunately kept Keith away from his mom and her work rebuilding the Blade, and Shiro and his diplomatic peacekeeping initiatives with the Voltron Coalition still headquartered on Olkarion. But Keith’s not complaining (too much). It took him a while to understand that as the leader of Voltron, this bit of outreach is also a piece of the overall work. People want to know the Paladins and understand them so that they can trust them, and all of that is needed in order to build a safer universe. Winning hearts and minds, not just death-defying battles, will keep this coalition together, Shiro once told him. 

The port city Keith is in is called Rivtas, and it’s more of a barter town than full city, a desert outpost complete with a small swap market. There’s a collection of ramshackle refugee settlements tethered to it, carving a little piece of civilization out of the great expanse of desert. In the past few months, many refugee settlements like Rivtas have sprouted across freed planets, and even on Earth, as people begin to find their way home, setting up places of gathering and exchange as they rebuild their lives. Rebuilding will be a generations-long process in most places across the universe, but Keith can see the excitement in the faces of everyone he meets on these missions, can feel the charge in the air: freedom finally close at hand. 

Keith walks down the rocky hilltop back to where he’d landed Black. Loose stones slip beneath his boots, but the land soon smoothes out to the soft flatness of sand. Lumac is a mostly desolate planet, a mountainous terrain of rocks and sandy dunes that come in hues of blue, violet, and gray. Someone told him it was colored that way due to the ultraviolet rays created by the interaction of the planet’s two suns. 

Keith squints up at bright morning sky, the two suns painting a brilliant swirl of orange and red patterns across the horizon. He glances down toward the loud, bustling market, ever alert for any problems. In the middle of the chaotic sprawl of people and stalls he sees a young Lumacian girl in tattered animal hide, shivering in the dampness of the morning air, pulling her long green hair around her shoulders in an effort to keep warm. Keith frowns, knowing that most of the kids he’s met so far have been war orphans living in tent cities at the far end of town. 

“Hey, Teisa,” Keith says, turning to speak to the young Puig volunteer stacking crates behind the Black Lion. She waves his way, and Keith waves back before pointing toward the market and asking, “Can you make sure our team hands out the donated Garrison coats to anyone in the crowd in need? Also make sure they bring snacks for the orphan kids. Hunk baked cupcakes.”

“Will do, sir,” Teisa says with a smile and nod, and Keith has to fight back the desire to sigh every time someone calls him ‘sir.’ But he’s leading the biggest military force in the Coalition and ‘sir’ apparently comes with the territory, even if he never officially graduated from the Garrison and earned his stripes there. 

Overhead Keith hears a cawing sound, and he looks up to see some kind of giant winged creature wheeling across the soft pink sky, and for a minute Keith takes in its flight pattern, watches how free it looks as it glides on the breeze. An easy kind of freedom that Keith envies. Some days he still feels too small for this role of leader, even if everything about the universe is off-kilter anyway, and maybe nothing is supposed to make sense anymore. Some days he just wants to run, or fly, or fight, or do something pointless and reckless, the force of it screaming in his bones, even as he wishes for the strength to just do his job _well_. He scrubs his gloved hand across his face, closing his eyes against the soft brightness of the day. Takes in a deep breath.

 _You’ve got this, Keith_ , Shiro had told him at their last parting. And Keith has to remind himself, that yeah, maybe he does. 

Keith sighs, opening his eyes to glance back out across the market, taking in the volunteers unloading crates of perishables, handing out water to the long line of waiting planetary residents. He wonders what the survivors have seen with their war-tired eyes. The piles of rubble, crumbling infrastructure, and blown-out buildings only speak so much to what the Empire left behind.

At least this planet reminds Keith of his desert home, of nights spent sleeping against the rocks after he was kicked out of the Garrison, missing Shiro’s friendship, missing the childhood he’d spent with his dad. The desert is where his thoughts are the most quiet, where he feels a certain kind of stillness and connection with himself.

Even now Keith thinks about how Shiro used to look at him when they’d ride out together on their hoverbikes across Keith’s favorite piece of desert terrain; he’d look at Keith like he was worth something, smart and capable and good. And if Keith was upset about something, Shiro would do his best to make things better, to talk it out, to try to find a solution. Once when the both of them were bone-tired after hours of flight training, Shiro had told him that all he ever wanted was to see the stars, break a few more flight records, and live long enough to see Keith do the same. 

Sometimes he wonders if Shiro knew, if Shiro could have known all along, that Keith loved him with a fierceness and devotion that scared him sometimes during those years at the Garrison. But Keith doesn’t think there’s ever been a choice to not love Shiro. Shiro with his big heart and his warmth and his radiant life force — back then he was a life raft to a drowning boy. 

Truth is, he still is. 

*

A large number of the single points of light observed in the night sky are actually binary stars — two stars orbiting each other, or two stars circling a single planetary mass. Sometimes the stars are so close together, they appear as one. Keith was always fascinated by this concept — of two light sources never being alone, acting as constant companions in the infinity of space.

*

Keith spends most of the day liaising with local community leaders, working on ways to improve communication plans between the medical workers, and helping to pass out the remaining supplies to the various refugee camps. Tomorrow he’ll be on another planet — Qjismik —meeting with Voltron allies who’ve been fighting Galra soldiers on the fringes of their solar system for the past two months.

By evening Keith’s sitting in front of the camp’s communal bonfire, his legs splayed out before him on the ground, as he watches one of the Lumacian spiritual leaders stand in front of the roaring fire, captivating the audience with his words. The man is animated as he tells the story of how their local group of rebel fighters brought down one of Sendak’s cruisers. 

The clouds are low, heavy and pale, and the two suns are setting against the far-off horizon. The resulting amber light-show shimmers over everything, warps and liquefies the entire settlement. Keith feels drowsy, sleepy, and it’s probably the only reason he doesn’t immediately recognize the person who comes to stand beside him, and asks, “Is this seat taken?”

Keith frowns at the familiar voice, and when he looks up and up and _up_ , his heart does a little leap into his throat. He knows that hair and that scar and that damn fine-looking admiral uniform tapering over a hard chest and long legs. 

“What the hell, Shiro? How are you even here?!” Keith yelps, but stops himself from jumping up to hug him and wrangle him in. He’s totally a professional, okay.

Shiro laughs, warm and welcoming as he settles down beside Keith on the ground, letting their shoulders bump together. Shiro’s hand then comes to rest solidly against Keith’s shoulder when he says, “Caught a ride with a supply ship. Figured you and Black could drop me back on Olkarion in a couple of days.”

Keith’s eyes widen, and he can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles out of his aching chest. “Did you run away?”

Shiro’s lips twitch like he wants to laugh again, and he’s practically blushing when he admits, “I did not run away, _exactly_. After I snapped at one too many dignitaries, some members of the Coalition felt I needed to take a mental health day or three. Allura knew I probably just needed to see you, so we came up with this idea of my weekend getaway.” He pauses to meet Keith’s eyes, smiling almost shyly as he continues, “It’s been three weeks since we’ve seen each other.”

“I know,” Keith breathes out, and he feels the span of time and distance in his very core. 

“I missed you,” Shiro says, catching his gaze and keeping it.

Keith can hear the exhaustion in his voice, and Keith exhales his own tired breath as he takes a good look at Shiro. The dying suns’ last rays reflect in his grey eyes and bounce off the white of his hair. He’s so damn beautiful it takes Keith’s breath away. _I missed you, too_ , he thinks, but the words stay inside his chest, full of weight and longing.

Keith doesn’t know how long they sit like that, just taking each other in, but eventually one of the Lumacians brings them bowls of stew and some of the mead, and they’re quiet together for a while, eating and watching the gathered crowd. Several cooks roast delicious-smelling meats and stir pots of stew over the fire, and audience members ask the storyteller to tell more tales of adventure, while other revelers drink loudly out of their cups of mead, toasting their drinks to the stars, to the universe, and always to Voltron. 

“Did you notice this planet has two suns?” Keith asks Shiro, voice trailing quietly into the night. 

“Yeah, the better to keep each other company,” Shiro quips, and then shoots Keith that soft-teasing smile of his, and Keith feels his belly swirl with heat and want.

Keith leans in against Shiro, wrapping his hand around Shiro’s huge cybernetic prosthetic hand, curling their fingers together. He feels the fire’s heavy caress against his cheeks, but Shiro is warmer still. Keith places his head on Shiro’s shoulder. He isn’t tired anymore really, but rather so completely present he hears every breath Shiro takes, every song sung by revelers in the distance, every insect buzzing around the roasting meat. Some of the logs collapse in the fire, sending up a shower of sparks high into the air, swirling above them, brothers to the starlight. After a while, Keith buries his face in Shiro’s neck, presses a kiss to the hollow of his throat, and inhales. 

Keith feels overwhelmed by the sudden knowledge that he has this, that whatever happens, whatever shit the Universe flings at them next, he and Shiro are in this together. Shiro is here; he is alive, and (mostly) whole again. Shiro, who came back from the brink of death because Keith needed him. Shiro, the one person he’s always been able to count on. Neither of them is giving up on the other. They are doing their best every day to help clean up the mess Zarkon left behind, and they are doing their best to be there for each other, despite the distances and strains the job puts on them. 

“Are you alright?” Shiro asks, probably sensing Keith’s swirling thoughts.

“Yeah, just thinking about what we can get up to these next two days,” Keith says, grinning slyly.

“I for one can’t wait to kiss you properly,” Shiro says, his voice gone softer, as gentle as his grip around Keith’s hand. 

Keith doesn’t say anything to that. Everything he feels is still heavy in his chest, a pressure that makes it hard to breathe. So instead he reaches out and rests his hand on the back of Shiro’s neck. He looks at Shiro for a long time, watches the firelight in his eyes, and notices how it reflects back something of the universe. Shiro draws Keith closer and lets Keith rest his weight against him. Shiro’s hold around Keith is solid, unyielding.

The first time Keith realized how much he loved Shiro was a night much like this one. A camp fire in the desert on a small blue planet thousands of light years away, a handful of years ago. A dreamy-eyed twenty-one-year-old Shiro had slid down beside Keith on the ground, placed an arm around Keith and said, “ _You and me, buddy. One day we’re going to see the universe_.”

Keith doesn’t know what he thinks about fate or destiny. If he was destined to meet Shiro, to become a Paladin, to somehow end up on this crazy adventure to the edge of the universe with him. If he and Shiro were meant to save each other again and again. Are they together in every parallel universe? Are there worlds where they never met? He hopes not. Because he wants to believe that every version of him has a Shiro in his life, bringing him back from the brink, calming him, believing in him, and loving him fiercely. 

*

Most binary star systems are stable, the two stars locked in an forever spiral, sharing the same atmosphere, the same orbit, and sometimes lighting a singular planet. But a few of these systems have merged in the past for reasons not well understood by scientists. The stars collide in an outburst of massive energy, creating an explosion of such luminous light, if seen from the Earth it would be the brightest object in the night sky in every direction. 

Sometimes Keith thinks about the way he and Shiro operate together, how they orbit each other in the dark, how they protect each other. All the different ways they collide.

*

They’re barely inside Black before Keith’s shoving Shiro up against the wall, wedging his leg between Shiro’s thighs, pressing their bodies against each other. Keith buries his face in Shiro’s neck, breathes in the smell of him, all sweat and dust and heat, and it makes him feel dizzy, drunk. Three weeks is too long. 

Keith can feel Shiro’s heartbeat, totally in sync with the blood pounding in his own ears. Shiro’s just radiating heat under his uniform, and Keith wants to get to the source of it. Shiro pulls Keith closer to him, pressing warm lips to Keith’s neck, letting his teeth scrape lightly over the flesh. Keith runs his fingers through the soft strands of Shiro’s hair, thumbs along Shiro’s far-too-beautiful cheekbone. When Shiro finally kisses his mouth, Keith opens up wide, letting their tongues roll soft and wet while he seizes the small amount of space between them to begin to unbutton Shiro’s uniform jacket. 

“Fuck,” Keith growls into the kiss, low and hungry-soft as Shiro says, “ _Yes_.”

Everything they wear is always so much freaking work to get off, and when too many minutes have passed, they’re more desperate than ever, so Shiro pulls himself away to relieve himself of his clothing, jerking off his jacket and working at his belt and pants. Keith starts slipping out of his flight suit, precious moments spent pulling off the heavy armor, before working himself out of the black body suit beneath. 

Once they’re naked, Keith pushes himself back up into Shiro’s space, placing his hand over Shiro’s heaving chest, spreading his fingers over his pectorals, letting himself feel the heat of Shiro’s skin against his own palm. Keith leans in and kisses one beefy pec, licks a long line down to Shiro’s nipple before sucking the nub in his mouth. Shiro arches against him with a gasp, and Keith licks and tastes, everything familiar and warm, everything dark and flaring, Shiro stuttering out broken phrases that only egg Keith on. 

Keith takes his time because for once they’re not in a rush. Keith had spent weeks dreaming of Shiro’s taste — the lightning fresh spill of it, so damn hot it leaves blisters on his tongue. He licks his ways down, chasing the long line of Shiro’s naked body. Keith bites down just enough to leave slight indentions in Shiro’s soft, scarred skin — he nibbles, licks, and sucks a row of his own marks down Shiro’s chest in a long line to his hipbone. Shiro presses his left hand to the back of Keith’s head, holding on, and holding his breath, while his fingertips tangle in Keith’s hair. 

Keith stands back up and pulls Shiro with him to the cot in Black’s sleeping quarters. Shiro lets Keith push him down onto the mattress, and Keith takes a moment just to look at Shiro, to lock this image of him in his head for future lonely nights — his head tipped back to expose the sharp stubbled edge of his jaw and the clean curve of his throat; his eyes closed and lips parted as he sucks in shallow breaths. Keith can’t take his eyes off of Shiro, even when Shiro starts pulling at him with his hands, begging, “Keith, please.” 

Keith doesn’t know what he wants more — Shiro’s cock, his hand, his mouth, his ass. He wants it all, but they’ve got time enough now. Two days, and Keith’s going to make it so damn worth it. Keith climbs into Shiro’s lap, leans in and kisses Shiro’s throat, and Shiro shudders underneath him, exhaling a quiet, needy sigh. Keith pulls back in time to watch Shiro lick his lips, and Keith just has to kiss him again. Pressing their lips together, open-mouthed and hot and heady, Keith lets himself drown in the slick-wet taste of Shiro’s mouth. Shiro sucks on Keith’s tongue till they're both dizzy, panting. 

“What do you want, Shiro?” Keith whispers against his mouth after a time. When he pulls away, cords of spit linger between their lips. They’ve been making out like a couple of sloppy teenagers, and Keith loves it. 

Shiro looks at Keith, his breath ragged, and his spit-covered lips quirking into a smile as he says, “Want to come with you fucking me.” The words simmer in the heat between them, and there’s suddenly no longer room for any kind of rational thought in Keith’s brain, no time for anything but movement as he bites back a groan, rocks forward into Shiro, heat flaring low in his belly. 

Keith still can’t believe they’ve had to wait three weeks to be together again, can’t believe there are more weeks ahead when he won’t be able to see Shiro like this, spread out beneath him, all tight and breathless and achingly hard for him. Keith stands up and slides away to get them what they both need, a pack of lube he keeps in the crate of possessions on the side of his cot. 

When he returns, Shiro’s meaty thighs are already spread wide open, his ample chest heaving up and down, and Keith locks their gazes together, puts in his eyes his deliberate intent and his ultimate promise that this will be so good for the both of them, worth skipping every damn interplanetary negotiation for the next week. Month. Year. Maybe for once the universe can go on without them sacrificing everything. 

Keith kneels down between Shiro’s spread legs and slicks up his fingers. But then Keith realizes he’s already too late. Shiro’s smiling slyly up at him, showcasing his own talents as he slides his cybernetic right hand to his hole and begins to fuck himself open. 

“Oh god,” Keith whispers, watching, mesmerized, as the shiny white casing of two of Shiro’s fingers slip in and out, in and out. Shiro twists and angles them every time, _every damn time_ , his back arching up as he moans like fucking himself with his own prosthetic hand is the best thing in the world. 

“Is this how you keep yourself occupied when I’m not around?” Keith whispers hoarsely, and Shiro smiles even wider — the bastard can be such a tease — working his fingers even faster, eager as he preps himself for Keith. 

Keith’s already slicked hand goes to his own aching dick, and he’s so turned on he can’t help bucking into his fist as the gel spreads over the base and tip. Keith strokes himself, watching Shiro gasp and shudder and whimper softly as he spreads his legs even wider, fucks his fingers deeper into himself. Shiro’s looking at Keith intently all the while, making it clear not only that it feels good, but that he’s still too empty and needs Keith to take care of that. Keith knows that Shiro is putting on a show just for him, and it’s everything Keith needs right now. 

“Please,” Shiro says on a soft groan, lifting his knees up, so ready. “Don’t need any other prep, just need you, Keith.”

That shakes Keith to his core, and even though it’s damn near impossible to look away from the obscene display of Shiro getting off on his own hand, Keith’s own need is so primal, so urgent. He lets himself ease down between Shiro’s legs, runs his hands over his boyfriend’s strong, beautiful thighs before dropping down to plant a hand on either side of Shiro’s chest. He leans in and kisses Shiro, deep, lingering, full of promises, and Shiro kisses him back, placing his knees on either side of Keith’s hips and wrapping his arms tightly around Keith to draw him down.

Keith reaches between them and takes his own cock in hand, whispers against Shiro’s lips, _just breathe for me_. He then pushes inside of Shiro on an oh-so-slow thrust. The warmth is so intense, the grip of muscle almost too tight, and god, yes, it’s so good, and so incredibly perfect, Keith’s head swirls as he pushes deeper. Shiro’s eyes are locked on Keith’s, wide and wet, his mouth gone soft, falling open. Shiro doesn’t beg or scratch, he just takes Keith’s entire cock, and shudders around Keith’s long, slide into place. When Keith’s settled inside of Shiro, he shifts, just a bit, but it’s enough to bring back Shiro’s voice, to send him moaning and tensing up around him.

“Move, Keith,” Shiro begs, and that’s truly the only thing Keith’s ever wanted to do in his entire life. _Move_. Bracing himself over Shiro, he pulls out and then pushes back in again, hard and fast, and underneath him, Shiro bucks up and groans, gripping Keith’s shoulders tighter with both hands, his long legs wrapping further around Keith’s hips, pulling him in, deeper, closer, asking for more with every motion.

Shiro’s ass is stretched so tight around Keith’s cock that blackout creeps around the edges of his vision. But Keith soon gets lost in the rhythm of their fucking, pounding in and out with determination, Shiro’s words of yes, harder, please Keith, more, harder, and _I need you_ leading him on and on.

It’s like when they’re racing, flying through the desert, and Keith’s sliding forward to take the lead, taking the curve too fast, but Shiro’s right there on his tail, doing the same thing, and then they’re both diving over the edge together, and pulling up just in time, the two of them speeding toward the horizon line. Every push into Shiro is like the first burning breath after flying through the canyons, going too hard, too reckless, but it doesn’t matter because this is what he lives for. Everything they’ve done to save each other has been reckless, too much to make sense of. But now, moving inside of Shiro with the intensity of a perfect race, Keith can’t catch his breath, can’t even think beyond the urgent, desperate need to fuck Shiro until they’re both falling over the cliff’s edge.

Keith doesn’t have a word for the way they come together like this. There are times when they get so deep inside each other, they can’t see a way out. In each other’s bodies, heads, hearts. Shiro fucking into Keith, or Keith fucking into Shiro, so locked into each other its not just physical. Sometimes Keith feels like he's so far inside Shiro that’s he’s touching the hot atomic core of him, touching everything that makes him spark and shine and _his_ Shiro. Sometimes it feels like they're one. That pure connection is beyond anything Keith’s felt in his entire life, outside of his connection to Red and Black. Sometimes Keith wonders if maybe he and Shiro carry some kind of quintessence bond too; it’s something he’s wondered since connecting with Shiro on the astral plane.

Even now, everything feels like a hot slide of brilliant color, all red and black, all instinct and grace, the two of them moving together perfectly. Keith is breathing in every movement, memorizing the way they fit. The world centers on them — the friction, the too-tight heat, their matching pulse beats. It takes them both by surprise when Shiro suddenly tenses up and orgasms, splashing warm, wet come in the space between their bodies. Keith increases his pace, slamming down into Shiro as his own release comes down the line like a freight train, his balls drawing up, his belly twisting, and underneath him Shiro whispering, raw and hoarse, “Come for me.”

It sends Keith flying over the edge, and he’s letting himself go for Shiro, his body jerking up as he comes deep inside of him, comes so hard he’s seeing stars. His hands squeeze into Shiro’s thighs as they ride it out together, shaking and shivering into each other’s bodies. When it’s over, Keith pushes his face against Shiro’s sweat-slick neck, laughs softly against his throat, too overwhelmed to speak. He stays in Shiro for a long moment, just needing the world to slow down, find its center of gravity.

“You're amazing,” Shiro says, voice rougher than sandpaper as he wraps his arms tighter around Keith’s back, holding onto him like Keith’s something wild, precious, something that might escape at any moment — something he never wants to let go of.

Keith whispers Shiro’s name against his throat, tastes his skin again. Shiro tastes like home to Keith — every dream he’s ever had, every mile he’s traveled to get here.

Keith thinks about how, sometimes, due to their close proximity, some binary star systems eventually collide. He thinks maybe some things are inevitable like that. Some things are just meant to come together and light up the sky.

 

 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can follow me on tumblr [here](https://patienceyields.tumblr.com).


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